I'd Do Anything
by dorkphish9
Summary: Draco messed up big time...will he be able to make harry understand before the Boy-Who-Lived leaves the country for good...? H/D read and review! :D


**a/n: **i wrote this as i was working on the new chapter of my other story...the idea was nagging at me all day so i decided to finally get it all down...and, of course, none of these characters are mine...i only use them in my own twisted thoughts! xD i hope ya'll enjoy! oh, and review! reviews are good for the soul, ya know! ;D

Draco Malfoy was not having a good night. He tossed. He turned. He tossed again. 'What's the point in spending thousands of galleons on a mattress if I can't even get some sleep?!?' he thought to himself, a scowl firmly fixed on his pale face.

But he knew it wasn't the mattress' fault that he couldn't get comfortable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his face. The green eyes glazed with unshed tears, the rose red lips pressed into a firm line, the dark slim eyebrows contracted down in anger.

A growl ripped through the room and Draco threw the covers off him to across the room; a fluffy down pillow followed right after it. Sprawled on his back on his huge bed, the blonde pounded his fists as hard as he could on the mattress beneath him as his frustration and anger and self-hate poured through him. A moment later the young man lay still, his chest heaving with dry sobs and his eyes squeezed shut as if he was in pain.

"I can't take this anymore," he said aloud, breaking the tense silence that filled his room at the Manor. He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled to his wardrobe, pulling on clothes without looking at them. Slamming the doors shut, he strode purposefully to his door and wrenched it open. His dramatic exit was ruined when he was brought up short by Pansy Parkinson.

"Parkinson!" he barked, sounding quite unlike the Slytherin that once swaggered down the halls of Hogwarts.

One manicured eyebrow rose. "Yes, _Draco_?" she said, subtly drawing the man's attention to his language.

"Pansy, please get out of my way," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"No, and you know why?" Pansy asked, but continued without waiting for Draco to answer, "Because he told you to stay _away_. It hasn't even been two months yet."

"Exactly!" Draco yelled hoarsely, throwing his hands in the hair. "It hasn't even been two months and I'm already out of my mind, Pans!" He paused to take a breath and continued more calmly. "I cannot and will not stay away any longer. You heard what Blaise and Longbottom said at brunch this morning. He's _leaving_. As in leaving this _country._" Grey eyes pleaded with dark ones and he gathered her smaller hands in his. "I have to talk to him, Pansy. One more time before he leaves."

Pansy looked at her oldest friend worried; she had never seen him this desperate in all the years they had known each other. Sighing sadly, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the blonde's forehead softly. "Go on then," she said, stepping away. As Draco rushed past her and down the stairs she yelled after him, "But don't blame me when he stuns you for lurking around his house at 1 in the morning!"

H/DH/DH/DH/DH/D

Singly softly to the background music, Harry placed a wrapped picture frame in a cardboard box marked in big black letters that: 'LIVING ROOM'. Ron had laughed as Hermione pointed out that he was 20 years old, meaning that he could use magic whenever he wanted to, and wouldn't life be a lot easier if he used it to help pack? Harry had merely shrugged and said that the process of moving, of this move, was special; he wanted to be involved with each part.

Harry looked around the semi-empty room, trying to see if there were any more things he could place in the box. His green eyes narrowed as he spotted the black corner of a picture frame poking out from under his couch. Pulling it from its hiding spot, his brow furrowed with thought trying to figure out how this picture had ended up where it was.

Turning the frame over, he froze. Two young men were standing with their arms wrapped around each other, staring at the camera. The taller of the two, an aristocratic blonde, was standing behind the shorter black haired man, his arms wrapped around the other's waist. Every now and then, the smaller of the two would look up and smile fondly into the blonde's grey eyes.

Harry gasped as he suddenly remembered the drunken night almost two months ago when he had flung the picture away from him, the scene that it held breaking his heart all over again. He shut his eyes against the onslaught of tears, his knees suddenly buckled and he fell onto the couch, the picture frame slipping from his limp fingers onto the floor. Harry slumped over the arm of the couch, surrendering to the tears that dragged heart wrenching sobs from deep in his chest.

Harry knew that this separation was his idea. He had been the one to kick Draco out. He had been the one to enforce this silence between them. He had been the one to decide to leave England to try to get a fresh start. Now he was also the one to know how utterly wrong he was when he thought he could leave Draco behind. His plan had failed; he realized that now. Once he had a taste of what it was like to be with Draco Malfoy, he couldn't go back to how his life once was. But Harry didn't know how he could fix what was broken between the two men.

His sobs had quieted down and now he could hear a soft knocking at his door. Wiping his face dry with the hem of his shirt, he got up and hoped to Merlin that whoever his visitor was hadn't heard him a moment ago.

H/DH/DH/DH/DH/D

Draco was anxious and his body language showed it; he couldn't keep from shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The five minute walk to Harry's apartment from the Apparition point had given the blonde plenty of opportunity to think of what he wanted to say to the green eyed man and even how he wanted to say it, whatever it was he wanted to say. Should he say something long and sweet? Draco's inner Slytherin had blanched at the thought. Maybe he should keep it short, but meaningful? When he had finally arrived at his doorstep, Draco thought he could hear sobs coming from behind the locked door. He couldn't be sure, since the music that was playing was covering up most of the noise, but it made Draco even more anxious. He reached out and knocked again softly, almost afraid that Harry would answer. He was about to knock again, but at that moment the door opened.

Draco gasped softly. 'He _was_ crying,' he thought, studying the other man's puffy red eyes and the small spots of wetness on his tanned cheeks. Seeing the pain in Harry's eyes made Draco's heart clench. Both men seemed shocked into silence, both bodies frozen where they were; Harry's fist clenched on the doorknob, Draco's hand still halfway raised towards the door. Harry was the first to escape the trance.

"Draco…" he trailed off, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Harry," he said softly, heartened by the fact that Harry had called him by his first name. He took a step towards him and another until he was standing toe-to-toe with the shorter man. Draco softly cupped Harry's chin, tilting his head back until they were looking in one another's eyes.

Harry had been surprised to see _the_ Draco Malfoy standing disheveled and desperate at his door. He was even more surprised when he hadn't slammed the door in the other man's face. He was shocked that he was standing so close to the man he was supposed to hate, his chin held in Draco's hand, his eyes gazing into the other's.

If not for the pain he could see in those grey eyes and the pain he knew Draco would find in his, it would feel like it had been when they had first started to date. Before things had started to disintegrate, before that terrible night….Harry's heart wrenched inside him and he pulled himself out of Draco's grasp with a sob, stumbling back into his apartment. Trying to gain control, he buried his face in his hands and took a few deep breathes. He didn't know that the blonde had joined him in the living room until he felt the other man's rest softly on his shoulders.

"Don't,' he whispered through his fingers, immediately tense. "Please, just…don't…" He heard Draco shuffle back a few steps and he sighed. Looking up, he stared hard at Draco trying to find an inner source of strength. Speaking softly in an effort to disguise his quavering voice he said, "Why are you here, Draco?"

"Blaise and Lon-_Neville_ stopped by today for brunch. They mentioned you were leaving," Draco said. His velvet voice was barely over a whisper and Harry had to lean forward slightly to catch all of what he was saying.

"Yes, I am leaving," he said, motioning to the various boxes strewn around the room. Draco nodded and drew in a shaky breath. "Once everything is packed, I'm leaving the country."

The look of desperation crossed Draco's face. "Why?" he asked.

Harry shut his eyes again. He didn't like to explain his reasons and he especially didn't want to share them with Draco. But one look at the other man was enough to let Harry know that the young Malfoy was falling apart. He was never one to further pain in others so he squared his shoulders and looked at the other man.

"I have to do this, Draco. I can't be here with all these memories of better times. Everywhere I go I'm confronted with us, don't you see?" Harry locked eyes with the blonde and pleaded with him to understand. "I go to the deli on the corner and I see us in our corner table sharing dinner. I go to Diagon Alley and I see us strolling hand in hand looking into the window fronts," he paused and took a deep breath. He held his gaze with Draco and continued. "And every single _fucking_ time I go to _our_ park, I see you and….and…_him_..." His words trailed off as the pain of the memory washed through him. The pain turned into a physical manifestation and Harry wrapped his arms around his chest, his eyes closing tight against the pain. A moment passed and he opened his eyes, revealing watery emerald eyes. "I can't take it anymore Draco. I'm not that strong."

Before he had a chance to blink, Draco rushed to Harry's side, gathering the unrelenting body in his arms. All the perfect words he had planned on his way here disappeared in the wake of Harry's pain. He felt that he could pull all his hair out, make dozens of cuts along both of his arms and still have this same intense degree of self-hate boiling inside of him. If he would ever get Harry to forgive him, it would be more than he deserved. He would never ever forgive himself.

"Harry," he said tentatively, "I wish I would have been able to say this to you under better circumstances, but this could be the last chance I have to make you understand," He paused, waiting to see if Harry would respond but there was only silence. "I'd do anything just to hold you in my arms, not like this, but like before. I would do anything just to make you laugh and see you smile again. I know you wanted to break it off and forget we ever happened but I can't seem to put you in the past."

Harry pulled away from Draco's arms, but stayed next to him. He knew the blonde had been raised to never show emotions or to talk about anything as feminine as _feelings_. It had been a big factor in the downfall of their relationship; Harry had seen the man's loving actions, but he had always been in doubt of whether the feelings behind them were authentic.

"Draco, I have to finish packing. What are you trying to say exactly?" Harry asked point blank.

The other man cringed at the mention of Harry's move, but took a deep breath. "What I am trying to tell you, Harry Potter, is that I love you," he said softly. The world around them seemed to stop as Harry's wide eyes gazed into Draco's, searching for something deep in them.

"Why are you telling me this now?" He asked, shaking his head slowly. "How do I know you're not just telling me that because you don't want me to leave? Or are you trying to humor?" He took a step back and froze as something crunched under his foot. Draco bent to pick up the damaged picture frame and studied it intently.

Cradling it in his arms, he looked at Harry earnestly. "I'm not trying to humor you, Harry. When have I ever tried to humor anyone in my entire life?" he gave a small self- deprecating laugh and continued. "I was scared, 'Ry."

Harry huffed. "Scared? Of what?"

Draco gazed down at their picture again and gave a half shrug. "All my years in Hogwarts and the two years afterward I have never been involved in a serious relationship, only various flings. I've liked some of the people, admired one or two, but love? Never…until you," he whispered. He looked up and met Harry's confused stare. "Our first kiss, it was electric. My whole body felt as if it was tingling. I could have gone on kissing you till the end of time. And the first time we made love? I knew I would never be able to sleep with anyone else, never wake up in the morning next to anyone else. I belonged to you; heart, body, and mind. It scared the _shit_ out of me to feel so bound to someone. My father had always taught me that no one, save himself and the Dark Lord, had power over me; that I was a Malfoy and petty things such as love and commitment were below my consideration," his eyes shifted focusing on something beyond Harry and his living room.

Harry flinched when he saw Draco's eyes harden with self-loathing. The other man didn't notice, too lost in his thoughts. "And then I did the most idiotic, destructive, hurtful thing I have ever done; just to prove that I was a Malfoy, through and through." He paused, a bitter smile on his lips. His gaze refocused on Harry and the desperation was back in the grey depths. "When you ran away, I ran after you. But then you Apparated and I was left in that dark empty street. He caught up with me, of course, but I shook him off and ran; I lost him after a couple blocks. When I was alone, the shame and disgust at what I had done rose up in me, leaving me retching behind an overflowing dumpster. When I came back here, you were no where to be found. Then I saw the note you left me. I considered waiting for you to come back, but I knew I deserved anything you threw at me. So I did what you're note said; I packed all my stuff, got the hell out and left you alone."

Draco stopped talking and looked again at the picture in his arms. He barely noticed the tear drops landing on the broken shards of glass. Harry watched him, unsure of what to do next. The silence stretched between them for a full minute. Harry coughed and shuffled his feet. Draco looked up from the picture again and watched as Harry gathered his thoughts.

"Draco," he said slowly, "I don't…What do you want me to say?" His hands reached out in a "Help me" gesture. Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him closer, his head leaned in close.

"Say you believe me, 'Ry," Draco whispered. "Say you love me, too."

"Draco…." He said again. "I…I don't know when I'll be able to forgive you. I don't know if I'll be able to forget."

Draco winced. "I'll never be able to forgive myself, Harry." His pale fingers traveled up and down Harry's cheek, smoothing away the tear tracks. "But I can promise you, I will spend every last day of my life making it up to you. If you want me to leave and never see you again, I will. If you want me to lie down in front of the Knight Bus, I will. I'd do anything for you." The two men stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Harry seemed to be searching for something and Draco tried to convey whatever he needed to.

Harry swallowed, apparently finding what he was looking for, and stepped into Draco's embrace, feeling the sharp edge of the picture frame against his back. "I believe you. I love you, too, 'Co."

Draco let out a gush of air and laughed shakily in relief, laying his cheek on Harry's head. "Thank you, 'Ry. You won't regret it. I love you so much," he whispered, his tears falling into Harry's unruly black hair. Harry, his own tears soaking into Draco's shirt, hugged the other man tighter.


End file.
